Silken swords
by Whispurrs
Summary: Kayley has grown; and the world isn't always what she wished it to be, but when it is, it is the most beautiful and wondrous thing, especially shared with him. slightly darker take/character piece. 'when she found it, she would love the promise of the light.'


**Silken swords **

**Author's Note**

**I hate my old QFC fanfic – dark for the sake of it with nothing to say; so hopefully this should make amends, semi alternate timeline; only real change is the dragons don't exist [YAY!] Anyhow; this may be a little disturbing as I doubt the life of a knight would be all amazing; and seeing all the complaints about Kayley, I wanted to expand her character as well.**

_Doubts emerge_

Camelot was not a place known for times of peace and rest; and thus, when those moments came, they were fleeting; and never embraced as they should have been; always taken for granted, even knowing the past.

After Ruber had been killed; the usual rejoicing occurred, feasts; with ballads and stories of the new knights told, and much questioning on the nature of Kayley and Garret's partnership.

Although most suspected, or rather knew of the romantic implications; after a day or two of indulgence, Kayley was ready to lap up any information Arthur would provide her in Camelot; and Garett was starting to realise the light of the city he was shunned from once more; all the while being war enough for no surprises to occur.

Kayley was properly trained; and despite a few objections initially from Garret, who had grown rather attached to the first person who had interacted with him of their own free will in years; however annoying she could be in her worse times, this time on her own; as one day she would have to fight.

Her skill was rather limited; the only real practises she had been with hay; farming tools and blunt cutlery, because of Juliana's protective nature; but apart from a few initial groans of distaste her thirst to be better was something to work with far more skilled knights lacked.

Within around three months, she could fight with Garret and win; although the odds were still largely in his favour.

Juliana watched with proud and fixated eyes the blossoming care they had for one another; and wished sometimes the white dress Kayley wore was in fact for her marriage; but in truth she wore it because knighting was as important to her as marriage was for other women; not, or so she said because of the company she had kept while searching for Excalibur.

Kayley had gently told her mother she would rather be an accomplished knight first; and then a happy wife; for the first had always been her priority; and she was contented with the uncommon courtship they had.

It was a wise decision of hers; as once again conflict struck in her home; not as mythical or large scale as her first one she had battled; but as it was more mundane, it was more real; and magic was not an option to defeat it; whereas swords were.

It was decided, though skilled; they could not command an army; so the king would send his out as well as the pair; who with a mere five other knights were to attack as a separate entity.

This time it was a lord who had agreed with Ruber's plans that was the problem; with a rawer evil than that of the mad knight – their old foe was too theatrical, too comical to truly be a menace; his follower, however, had ideas that would execute his plan perfectly.

The days after he had ranted and raved to anyone who would listen that the red knight's cause was the true one; until he was dragged to the dungeons, when he decided to be silent.

Arthur was _perhaps_ too compassionate a king; for seeing this nobleman's decay into madness he felt that to rot in relative comfort would be worse than any straight blow to the head.

Garret wanted the prisoner's head clean off; as assurance that he could not come back to kill, maim or even slightly injure a soul, while Kayely said she would stand by her king's decision, even if she too was worried about possible repercussions.

This started a minor rift between the two; and the other knights who were torn about the decision; till one day; Lord Elrich made the decision for them; by muddying the dungeons with the blood of guards and fleeing, trying to assemble the remainder of like- minded men who had not been captured.

Garret tried to ask Arthur if Merlin could sort out the affair; as great a magician as he was, he should have been able to disable rebellions, surely?

Arthur replied that the course of action would be better taken by mortal's; as if Merlin was manipulated by magic it would mean larger scale disaster than if anyone else was; and that there was never one threat alone; even in times of seeming peace; and Merlin's magic should be kept only for times when death would be the only other option.

Garret wanted to reply it was a load of bollocks, but gravely nodded and set off for the cause he was grudging about fighting for. With Kayley; who's trust in both her love and true king had been somewhat marred; if only a little.

The battle was easily won, despite the frantic haste to stop him; as those who were left were not committed, and had turned to the sort of crimes that went on every day; smaller scale evil, that she wished they could tackle as well, only for both her king and Garret to tell her they had to pick the battles; and some injustice would always occur.

The man himself slaughtered some of his ''unworthy''; before they turned on him, only appeased by his money and thin promises not to return; but damn, he snapped at them before he died; deciding he would rather die with small infamy than as a prisoner or betrayer; merely relishing a chance for his cause at all.

''Your people are turning to disease and slaughter and rape and Ruber could have ripped that from the ground, sorted the maggots from the men; through means no more evil than those average villains you neglect to slice – kill me, if it will kill them faster!'' he laughed, slowly, more plodding than maniacal, winding itself into their ears, slithering around their minds.

She held her blade in her hand and wore a scowl that should have written hi death; but the words shook her turned her to near paralysis.

''You are no noble king; the bloodshed of the cattle-masses would have given divinities to the pure. Your witch lies with women and devils; she is more ripe for death than I – she is so very like her father; saying we should give _them _plenty.'' He nearly spat the word them; an abhorrent thing that choked him

She wished to slice him in two for the memory of Lionel; and she near roared, as she charged at him; Garret too turning to a bull rather than man in abject fury, before a knight by the name of Lucien stabbed him in his back, with a small but sufficiently bleeding wound.

The Lord knew he was coming to death; and with a final smirk he cut through the Knight's foot; leaving both writing in agony; and, although the deeds were done, Kayley added to the Lord's pain slicing him with expertise; a butchered mockery of a corpse of man.

Garret shouted at her to help the dying knight; rather than add to something already certain; before he asked her if she could see any of the healing plants as she tried easing the man's discomfort with kind words; which, when after she said there were none, was all either could do; although Garret told him he had found a substituting vine; a comforting lie both doubted he believed.

The four other knights tried to help him as best they could, with a makeshift tourniquet and quiet prayers.

Her eyes brimmed up with tears at the realisation that another child might lose her father; another wife her husband and it crushed her to the bone as she saw the flow of blood.

Thankfully, by a miracle he managed to live; but with a foot he could no longer walk on, and this was a cruel miracle in its short life; as on the journey back towards Camelot he could not take even small blows, and died in a thankfully merciful way; in the middle of an early rest he told them he must take.

''Garret,'' she turned to him, with now almost faded tears; ''It was my fault wasn't it?'' she stated faintly; he had died because she was too busy adding to the pain of someone who would already die.

''That's fools talk,'' he replied sadly, ''He was the only one who killed him, Kayley; you cannot do this to yourself. Remember Lionel?'' he tried turning the conversation; to which she obviously nodded, ''you learnt to smile again after his death; and I'm sure Lucien would only want the same to happen after his own.''

She would say, before; and perhaps even after this she adored being a knight's guarding all that her father did, upholding the morals of the land and protecting its people with open arms their neighbours never did; but this was not true of all knights; some of them, despite Arthur's judgement could be callous and would, with their titles get away with murder.

To be a knight; she had to both see and cause death; and imagining her father in the very position she found herself in chilled her to the bone.

''I wasn't ready; was I?'' She sighed, voice quivering once more as he held her to him gently.

He told her to hush, trying to soothe a franticly searching and questioning mind.

It failed, inevitably; and they each engaged in a cautious, farcical dance when with the other; stepping on eggshells and avoiding triggers to open up old wounds, to make them sting with ten times the pain.

He told her he had no family; knowing she would undo herself is she thought of her own father and how she needed the presence of more than a ghost to guide her.

Though this did not lessen her sadness; the crucial thing was it did not increase it.

As for this changing of truth the whole business of the funeral was a hushed affair; done before Kayley could ask about it; answered, when the question did rear its head it was batted away with a few more simple lies.

He was shaken by it in another way; when he ought to have been greeving for the boy; all he could do was hate the poor corpse for adding bleak tones to her world – making it the real world.

It was a world that ill-suited her.

If he were simply allowed to go with her and nought else; after all; they had saved Camelot once before when the King could not seem to lift a finger for his realm.

After that instance he was sacred by her fragility; and she was ashamed of it; and, whether wise or not in the past Arthur decided to let them deal with the villains within their own community; those who wanted not the world; but to destroy one person's life alone.

This neither calmed nor annoyed them; they simply got on with what they had to do; death still being a real threat for the pair even if it was not for Camelot; people continuously thanked them for it, but though she smiled back to them the thanks always seemed bittersweet to her.

She was nothing more than a source for gossip of washerwomen who wanted to know what on earth a lady was doing both doing chores on a farm when they still had their wealth and of all things, trying [and, without her mother's consent, failing] to fight.

This was an annoyance yes, but nothing large scale.

For Garret however, it was different; he was outcast, and as a poor, blind boy felt the harshest blows of a world those far from it thought magical and wondrous.

He was on the edge as he received each praise; waiting alertly for the time disappointment and regret would strike again; and always even so protective of her; spreading himself far too thinly.

''You miss it; don't you?'' she said, his head limping in shame as he licked some old wounds of his others would leave well alone.

He tried his hardest; immersed himself that tad too much in things of glory; his smile far from sincere however large it would grow to be; his laughs sounding more manic and seedy than warm as they truly were.

She expected him, as always, to build a marvellous wall of defences for himself; perhaps; if he was in the right mood even sulk about it; in fact, she would have preferred it in some ways.

He just said yes.

She; as the cause could not comfort him; so instead of offering a hand or her heart she simply mouthed an o; inaudible though it was, stuck in her throat; the little thing.

They would be alone together; if nothing else.

He sighed at the truth of what he had said, no double meanings or hurtful thing glazed over; very unusual.

He missed being covered by the dense woodland; and embraced by its being – healed and taught by them; some even as he ate their carcasses.

To be obscure was death to so many he had grown to know; and others he had hoped to forget, but to him, it was comfort; the blanket that survived the apocalypse would be a rather apt allegory for how it felt.

Kayley, he knew would much rather infamy than that; she craved her name to be known to such a degree even heaven would find it; and her father's pride would swell a mile.

It would do just observing her.

_Unkempt ends are somewhat seldom tied satisfactorily _

She clung to him; grateful as always he was a living, breathing thing of flesh and not fantasy; and something that she would assure could survive through hell, even if she had to barter with the devil to help him.

Her mother had caught on; but was willing not to know; at least when she was asked, and when it mattered.

The average nobility however, would be having kittens.

Still; they were fine to pop a menagerie of felines from their womanhood's for all she cared of their opinions of her; she would keep her own views even in brimstone, if that came for her unworthiness; and would probably have taken time to talk with the devil about the bones she had to pick with ''him upstairs''.

They remained unmarried for a variety of reasons; the largest ones because she thought a ring would either sever the relationship due to their loathing of conformity and if not, she feared fate would be very tempted by the new happiness it would provide.

A ring was not needed, and as long as she was helping her people, once again ''bad talk'' was reserved for hushed chatter; not that of the open air, and even if the din of gossip were to drown out her every word, to have him to suffer it alongside her she'd still be relatively happy.

Of course though, she would be happier if she could practice just what made her a knight on them.

Still; she wouldn't want her sword spoiled, she smiled; a flicker of something in her eyes that would unease most quickly flashed, and, though soon over, she savoured the sensation it brought her.

Reality never had quite such glorious demons as her stories; one so blind in his madness he was rather dull; on reflection to deal with; the other such a husk of something once all-consumingly hideous to his core; and yet the only of those first two who had killed.

The world was brutal; but it had no place for elegant evil.

Such a shame.

Still; justice was her chosen course; and she'd rather stick with it than mould a new, winding; shabby path for herself that only the grimmest shells would frequent, in squalor and momentary pleasure.

The only things that mattered happened down such roads.

Were it not for them; she'd gently caress his cheek and lead him to his glorious forest home; a place she was afraid of even in her older; apparently wiser age, but saw; without the guide of fond memories; as close to wonderful as she would get.

Still; she had not grown.

At least in one way; she grimaced; remembering it all; another memory she wished to bury away, until the stench of how it rotted made everything but remembrance impossible.

She knew what would come; the scandal, perhaps hatred of others; ostracism, and, if the day was darkest; she would even fall out of Arthur's favour; a thing she could not bear; but his assurance would be enough; she was determined to make it so.

But it wasn't.

It ended without the dramatics you would expect; but nonetheless… it was gone; that hope of hers, it had never been a yearning; even a thought before then and still it seemed the world had been lost to her.

She could not do the expected thing; couldn't even have that as a comfort if all else failed; in the eyes of her city and her people she would be worse than worthless – purposeless, whatever she had done.

Her mother; that, she realised, with more than a pang of guilt, she had often scowled and shouted at was more than apt at giving comfort; and afterwards, a bond made in despair was blooming to show some light in a relationship she saw only as essential.

Juliana told her about how she saw her husband, and he made his way into her heart after a few months; although he was immediately besotted; and tried to fit him in with the done thing; quite easy with his rich family and noble status.

Luckily, they only knew of his personality after the wedding; and they were content to be the grey; if not sable sheep of the family.

She explained her father was the more outgoing of the two; whilst she tended to plan and fret and self asses till the moon came out.

While Kayley still felt that spark her father had provided every time she was in the heat of her odd little job, or with Garret, where they would treasure the stars above their happy moments like diamonds that would provide a starving family, and was still ready to at least inwardly snap at any injustice done to her; more of her mother emerged through the harder times than she would ever have guessed.

It was looking at one of those rare flowers her mother had grown that was not extremely dull or withered so that it was beyond the mind's powers to eve imagine a time it looked appealing, that she decided.

With some regret about leaving her people unattended, though not forever, she and Garret went back into the forest; and, giving herself a new topic of enthusiasm; she quickly studied the various magical and medicinal ones; i.e., telling Garret in complete wonder about what they had done, much to his amusement.

She still at least once a week carried on her strange policing with him; although crimes were far more mundane; something neither minded particularly; other than temporary boredom; which soon gave way to quiet relief.

She even found herself a willing disciple or two; athletic, oddly spirited girls who would give the world for her to train them; but, whatever a life they had aside from that ambition, she couldn't tear them away from their parents.

She couldn't lead them into dark with a promise of light.

They were always, however allowed to train when she had no duties; if their parents permitted it; which was something she doubted highly would happen in her lifetime; especially when she always escorted them home, knowing the dangers of her home far too well.

She was proud she inspired, but she didn't want to lead onto falsehoods; and so, it was decided, half grudgingly and half with elation on her part she would partake in royal events, and events for the kingdom's most beloved knights; where she would be glad to offer advice, hope and what seemed to be a good example, if nothing else.

Once in a while, contrary to the rest of her nature; she would even find it in herself to dance in fine robes; loving the sensation it gave her; of a freedom to be found in convention; a rare and treasured thing.

At the end of every dance, at the end of every small scale battle children who didn't yet know of scandal gaped at in awe she would find herself in Garret's arms; somewhere she knew she needed, whether or not it ruined the thought of her as a new breed of woman.

She loved fighting; with the promise no one would get hurt , which was sadly, rare; she loved to ride and walk and run, to dance and even to love, her parents both and her lover.

She hated doubt which plagued her, apologies she couldn't make, and the thought she was ungodly; un-womanly, un_person_ly, the fragility which desecrated the conviction of her dream, and life's work, and all she could not do.

But by God; when she found it, she would love the promise of the light.

**Author's Note 2**

**I started writing this because of the heather dale's song one of us; until quickly it had nothing to do with it; and actually, I think it's better that way. The title is pretentious, but I had no idea what else to call it.**

**It doesn't really stick with the original idea for the film's storyline, but I think this is a nice enough little work on its own; although not for the kiddies, despite the film's target audience.**


End file.
